Burying the Past
by bionic4ever
Summary: Steve and Jaime's middle child is getting ready to marry Michael's son. Will ghosts of the past make a happy future impossible? To Julie, as always.....thank you.
1. Chapter 1

**Burying the Past**

Prologue

Jaime didn't think she'd ever seen Steve look so heartbreakingly empty and sad, and it scared her to the core. They'd been married for twenty-seven years – she'd known him for most of her life – and she had no idea what was going on in his head. She bounced out onto the porch with much more verve than she actually felt, to try and jolly him out of it.

"Hey, you," Jaime said lightly, throwing her arms around him from behind, "where'd that proud Papa, soon to be Father of the Bride, run off to?" Steve merely shrugged silently. Jaime began kissing the back of his neck, a move guaranteed to get a rise out of him one way or another. He didn't answer and didn't respond, increasing her sense of alarm, but Jaime wasn't ready to give up. She massaged his shoulders for a few minutes, wondering what had put so much tension in his strong, capable muscles. Before she could ask him, Steve got up from the chair and, his shoulders slumped and his face a mask, sat down morosely on the front steps.

Jaime sat down beside him, embracing him with both arms and reaching for him with her heart. "Steve, what's wrong?" she asked gently.

"I'm just...tired, I guess."

"Not buyin' it, Austin. You wouldn't let me get away with a load of BS like that, and I'm not gonna let you shovel it, either." She reached over to run her hand tenderly along the curve of his face, and she saw one uncharacteristic, lone tear in his eye. "Steve, talk to me...please?"

Steve finally turned to fully face his wife, and his voice was shaking with the intensity of his emotions. "I love you so much, Jaime. Please...just always remember that, ok?" Before breaking down completely, he rose to his feet and went into the house, leaving Jaime alone on the porch.

- - - - - -


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One

"Oscar, I'm so glad you could make it," Steve said, feigning more joviality than he really felt. He _was_ glad to see his old friend, but Steve's heart was too heavy with worry to allow him to genuinely smile.

Oscar could see it, too; they'd known each other for more than thirty years. He knew Steve would tell him eventually, but under no circumstances would he be rushed or forced to talk. "It's been awhile, Pal," he said casually as they headed toward the kitchen. "When Mary told me you called, I had her cancel my appointments. It's always good to see you."

"How's she working out?"

Oscar smiled. "She's no Peggy Callahan, but she's good, and she _will _be great, given a little time."

Steve handed him a mug of coffee and grabbed a towel-covered basket before the two men moved into the den. He removed the towel and held out the basket, offering Oscar a muffin. "Chocolate chip; Jaime just made them this morning. She's got this idea in her head that something's bothering me, and -"

"And she's right," Oscar concluded.

"Yeah," Steve admitted quietly.

"Where _is_ Jaime?"

"She's out and about – wedding stuff – with Hannah and Daniel," Steve answered, pausing a moment before telling him the rest. "And Michael."

Oscar's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Oh. Are you ok with that?"

"No – no, I'm not."

"You could've gone with them."

Steve shrugged. "I'm not good at those things. It's more a 'mother' thing, but Daniel's mother died years ago, so Michael's...pinch-hitting, I guess."

"I thought he was in Texas."

"Yeah; his practice is based there, but he took a three-month leave of absence, and he's free until the wedding. He rented a house about ten minutes from here, and he'll be helping Jaime and the kids with the wedding arrangements."

"What about you, Steve?" Oscar asked, very quietly.

"I told you, I'm not good at -"

"No; I mean _you_ – _your feelings_. I can see what this is doing to you. Have you talked to Jaime? Does she know how you feel?"

Steve shook his head sadly. "I can't tell her."

"Steve, she's _your wife_ -"

"And last Thanksgiving, I assured her that I was ok with Michael joining the family, when Hannah and Daniel get married."

"Which is great, but joining the family is a hell of a lot different from spending time with your wife."

"Exactly," Steve agreed. "But I also apologized to Michael for being irrationally jealous; we shook hands -"

"And for you to try and stick to that, when the situation has obviously changed is huge," Oscar acknowledged, "but Jaime deserves to know what this is doing to you."

"Maybe. I just...I don't want her to feel I don't trust her."

"Jaime would _never_ cheat on you, Pal. The thought wouldn't even enter her mind."

"I know that. She and Michael were so close, once, though -"

"A very long time ago," Oscar pointed out.

Steve could barely get his next words out; he hadn't shared this knowledge with Jaime, or anyone else, since learning about it a few months earlier. "Oscar...Michael's still in love with her."

"Oh, I doubt that –"

"He admitted it to me."

"Steve," Oscar said slowly, "that moves this into an entirely new ballpark."

- - - - - -

"Which one do you like best?" Jaime asked. They'd narrowed the cake topper choices to three, and it was time for Hannah and Daniel to make a final choice.

"The bears are cute," Michael said, taking a step closer to Jaime, who noticed he was looking at her and not the toppers, but chose to ignore it.

Hannah saw it, as well, and tactfully stepped between them as she fingered the tiny decorations. "What do you think, Mom?"

"The bears _are _cute, but when you show this to your kids and grandkids as a memento someday, will cute be what you want?"

"I like the bride and groom," Hannah said decisively, marking her choice on the order form. She turned to Daniel, grinning happily, and took his hand. "Now – we get to eat cake!"

- - - - - -

"We got a lot done today," Hannah sighed as she sank down next to Daniel in his living room that night. They'd finished just before dinnertime, sent their parents on their way and were finally grabbing a few hours of 'alone time'. "The cake, the flowers, the centerpieces...but _what _is up with your dad?"

Daniel wrapped a gentle arm around his fiancée. "What do you mean?"

"Every time I turned around, he was just...staring at my mom. It was kinda creepy."

"She used to be his patient. Maybe he was just checking her over."

"He was checking her over, alright," Hannah said with un-Hannah-like sarcasm. "I didn't like it one bit."

"And I don't like what you're implying -"

"God, if my dad saw that...!" She kissed him, to let him know she wasn't angry. "Danny, why did your parents split up?"

"I really don't want to talk about that; not right now."

"Please?"

The look in Hannah's eyes told Daniel how important this was to her, so he reluctantly delved into the extremely painful subject. "You won't like this," he warned.

"I _need_ to know."

"I was really little, so I only remember bits and pieces, and it was just stuff I overheard from the other room, because they tried to keep it to themselves..."

"_Daniel -_" Hannah pleaded.

"I had no idea who or what they were arguing about back then - I only figured it out recently – but one name kept coming up, in almost every fight they had." Hannah waited expectantly, and after a deep breath, Daniel told her the rest. "The name that got them both so angry...was 'Jaime'."

- - - - - -


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Steve was scared. In the last twenty-seven years, he'd never spent one minute doubting Jaime's love for him or the strength of their relationship. Their bond had always been rock-solid; it still was. He'd never felt the need to ask Jaime for the details of her relationship with Michael. Jaime had made her choice, and Steve thanked his lucky stars every day that she'd chosen him. Michael had faded quietly into a distant memory, but now he was back in their lives, however indirectly, and spending far more time with Jaime than Steve could comfortably deal with.

One question loomed large in Steve's mind, and he wished he'd thought to find the answer, so many years ago. Just how close _were_ Jaime and Michael, when they'd been together? Michael had been honest enough to admit he hadn't lost his feelings for her, but what about Jaime? Had she been in love with Michael? Although she'd chosen to leave him behind, did she _still_ love him? Steve found himself suddenly _needing_ to know the truth, and he knew the question would hurt Jaime, make her feel accused, untrusted. Still...the alternatives were much worse, and Steve was still trying to find the courage (and the right words) when Jaime walked in the door.

He busied himself clearing the coffee table, plumping the pillows on the sofa and straightening pictures on the mantel ; anything to avoid looking at his wife and seeing something that might break his heart. Jaime saw that he was still in the same morose mood he'd been in for days, and she interrupted his 'busywork' by hugging him tightly, beaming happiness at him and wishing some of it would sink in. "It'll be a beautiful wedding, Steve," she enthused.

"Oh? Good."

"Daniel is perfect for her - when she's with him, she just...glows."

"Yeah..." he responded, a vacant look in his eyes.

"After the wedding, we're gonna strap wings on everyone's back so they can all fly to Mars for the reception."

"Uh-huh."

Jaime looked questioningly at him. "Steve, _what_ is wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You've been...preoccupied all week. I'll go put dinner in the oven, grab some wine, and we can talk, ok?" She took the chicken out of its marinade, threw it in a pan in the oven and re-joined her husband with a bottle and two glasses. "Please talk to me," she said, softly touching her fingertips to his face in a tender caress. Steve stared at the floor, forcing back the flood of emotions and looking for the right way to say what was on his mind.

"Jaime...way back, when you were with Michael..." Steve felt her stiffen slightly in his arms, and an icy-cold fear gripped his heart and squeezed hard. _Forgive me, Sweetheart, _he thought silently. "How close were you?"

Jaime was shocked. "I'm not sure exactly what you're asking. Do you wanna know if I slept with him?"

"Did you...love him?"

"Steve...I married **_you_**."

"_Did you love him_?"

"I suppose I could've, eventually -" she answered, trying to be as honest as possible.

"He _still _loves you."

"Oh, I doubt that."

"He told me he did, right before Hannah and Daniel got engaged. What does 'I could've' mean?"

"Neither one of us ever used the word love. If we'd been together a little longer, outside of the hospital, it might've led to that, but no. We were close, but I was never in love with him."

"How close?"

Tears sprang to Jaime's eyes. If Steve didn't know by now that he was her one and only love, she'd been doing something terribly wrong for twenty-seven years. "I'm gonna go check the chicken," she told him, hurrying from the room before she began to cry in earnest.

- - - - - -

Hannah sat silently, trying to absorb the information. "You don't think they had an affair, do you?" she finally asked. "My mom and dad were married by then. She would never cheat on him; there's just no way."

"Whatever happened, my parents split up over it. Doesn't sound minor to me," Daniel concluded.

"I don't know what to say about that. I'm sorry your parents split, but maybe it was some weird insecurity your mother had. My parents are closer than any other two people I've ever known. There was no affair."

- - - - - -

Michael sat alone on his bed, deep in thought. He opened the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out an old, worn photograph. He and Jaime, arms around each other, smiled brightly for the camera. It was the only picture ever taken of the two of them as a couple. He'd assured Steve he would never interfere in his marriage to Jaime, and Michael intended to keep his word, but damn, it hurt! He longed to step into the picture, back to that time in his life, and do it all differently. He'd fight to keep the woman he loved, instead of backing away. Not an actual fistfight - with Steve, that would be suicidal. If only he could re-live it, he would tell Jaime exactly how he felt, ask her to stay with him - _beg_ her, if necessary. Would things have turned out differently? If he was ever going to have peace of mind, Michael needed to talk to Jaime, to find out the answer, once and for all.

- - - - - -


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Steve laid next to Jaime in bed that night, watching her sleep. Silent tears of worry streamed down his face, and he had to force himself not to pull her close to him, hold her tightly and never let go. Had he forced her into making a choice she hadn't been ready for, all those years ago? They were happy together, and their commitment had never wavered, but would she have been happier with Michael? Was something being re-ignited in his wife's heart, right before his eyes? The only thing in life that ever truly terrified Steve was the thought of losing Jaime, and he'd never felt more afraid than he did right now.

The next morning, he stood in the kitchen doorway and watched as she placed beef stew ingredients into the crock pot. "You really have more wedding stuff to do today? Again?"

"You can come with us, if you want," Jaime said with her back to him. She would do anything in her power to take away Steve's pain – she _ached _for him – but she was also feeling a little bit angry and _very_ hurt. He either trusted her or he didn't, and if he didn't, where did that leave their relationship?

"I'll pass," he answered sullenly. Jaime turned around and they stared at each other like strangers until Steve broke away, walking down the hall and out of the house.

Jaime flopped dejectedly into a kitchen chair and, for the second time in little more than twelve hours, she cried with all her heart.

- - - - - -

Daniel was up early that morning because before he picked up Hannah and her mother, he was going to confront his father. Nothing out of line had happened – yet – but Daniel could feel the proverbial out-of-control freight train heading straight for them, and someone was going to get hurt. It might not be his place to interfere, but for everyone's sake, Daniel was about to slam on the brakes.

He got right into it, without preliminaries. "Dad, is something going on with you and Hannah's mother?"

"With Jaime? Of course not. Why would you say that?"

"Hannah says you were staring at her all day yesterday, and the vibe it gave her, well..."

"There's been nothing between Jaime and I for years," Michael insisted.

"How many years?"

"Excuse me?"

"I know I was young when you and Mom divorced, so there was a lot I didn't understand, but you were arguing about someone named Jaime." Daniel took a deep, steadying breath and let the rest out in a tumble of words. "Did you cheat on Mom with her? And was she cheating on Colonel Austin?"

"I don't have to dignify that with an answer, but I will. Absolutely not; one thousand percent **no**."

"Then why -?"

"Your mother said I'd never gotten over Jaime, that three people in a marriage was one too many."

"So, did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Get over her?"

Michael stood up. "We're done here," he stated. "Why don't you and Hannah go ahead and hear the musicians by yourself? I need some time to think, and I'm sure Jaime could use a little down time."

Daniel shook his head, feeling like he was pounding it against a brick wall.

- - - - - -

When the doorbell rang an hour later, Jaime jumped up, splashed water on her face and headed for the door. The kids were early, She opened the door, ready to help the kids pick out a band for the reception, but only one person stood on the porch. _Michael_.

"Good morning," he said softly. "Are you ok?"

"Where are the kids?" Jaime asked.

"They can listen to music without us. I told them we were taking the day off -"

"You had no right to do that!" Jaime whirled around pushing the door to slam it in his face, but he was right behind her and already inside.

"Jaime, we need to talk," Michael insisted.

"Yeah, I guess we do," she agreed. She briefly considered suggesting a coffee shop so they weren't alone together, eliminating the chance of more accusations flying around. She knew Michael would never physically hurt her, though, and even if he had...thoughts...about something happening, nothing would. She was perfectly capable of physically stopping him by force if it came to that, and she really didn't think it would. She felt safe sitting down with him in the den.

"You were crying," he stated, concern filling his face. "Feel like talking about it?"

"Bad night turned into a bad morning," Jaime hedged. "I'll be ok."

"Our kids seem to think that you and I are -"

"So does my husband, I think," Jaime told him.

Whatever Steve had been thinking earlier, when he turned and began walking up the driveway, only to see Michael's car parked outside _his_ house, his mind began to reel with anger and suspicion...and _opportunity._

- - - - - -


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

It was a beautiful day outside, and Jaime had opened the windows when she'd gotten up that morning, so, even without bionic hearing, Steve was able to stand just around the front corner of his house, listening to every detail of the scene unfolding in his den. He stood ready to instantly intervene if things got out of hand, either verbally or...otherwise.

"Is that why you were crying?" Michael asked gently.

In his hiding spot, guilt washed over Steve like a flood. He didn't realize he'd made her cry, and the thought broke his heart. On the other hand, was he about to be a silent witness to his worst fears, come to life?

"Steve knows nothing would happen now; at least, I hope he does," Jaime said sadly. "I think what's bothering him is that he's not sure if..."

"If what?"

"If our past ever had a proper burial. If we truly let go, or just walked away from each other without dealing with the feelings involved."

_Bingo!_ Steve thought.

"How do _you _feel about that, Jaime?"

"If it bothers my husband, it bothers me," she told him firmly. "If he's right and we didn't bury it all back then...we need to do it now."

"I would never try to come between you and Steve," Michael said slowly, "but there's something I've wondered all these years. When Steve came back into the picture, I stepped away because the two of you are so _right_ together. But dammit, we were good together, too. There was something I wanted to tell you back then - _needed_ to tell you - but I couldn't while you were my patient, and after that, you were gone, so I never got the chance. Ever since, I've always wondered if things might've turned out differently, if I'd just let you know that...**_I loved you,_** Jaime. If I'd told you that, would it have turned out differently with us?"

"Michael -" Jaime didn't want to hurt him, but she was sure that he already knew the answer, deep inside.

"Letting you go like that was the hardest thing I've ever done, and I still wish I'd have stayed in it longer, asked you not to leave me, and maybe everything would be different now," Michael said wistfully.

"Oh, Michael - I'm sor -," Jaime began.

Steve was on instant alert. Why had she cut off in the middle of a word? He had to know, and when he peered through the window, he felt near-homicidal anger. Michael had pulled Jaime way too close and was _kissing _her hard. Steve was about to storm into the house and do some serious, permanent damage to the doctor when he saw Jaime push him away.

"It would've been over anyway," Michael concluded sadly.

"Yeah."

"Jaime, I'm so sorry I just did that, but I had to know. And now that I do, I can let this whole thing go. I swear to you, it'll never happen again."

"It _can't_ happen - _ever again_. I'll let this go, and we'll never bring it up again, for Hannah and Daniel's sake, but if you ever - _ever - _try that again, you won't have to worry about Steve finding out and hurting you. I will hurt you myself. Understand?"

"Absolutely. I'm truly sorry, and -"

"Michael? Not mentioning it again begins now." She got up and began heading for the door. Michael took the cue and walked with her as Steve darted back around the side of the house.

"Goodbye, Jaime," he said very softly as he turned away.

"Goodbye, Michael."

- - - - - -

Steve continued his walk a little while longer, figuring Jaime might need a little space to digest everything that had just happened. He wasn't sure if she'd tell him about it or not, but her words and actions with Michael had already told Steve everything he needed to know. A few hours later, when he did go home, Jaime was waiting for him at the door. She threw her arms around him and kissed him joyfully.

"I'm guessing you had a good day," he ventured.

"Definitely. Major stuff accomplished."

"You picked a band, then?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

"I don't know; the kids went by themselves today. Steve, Michael was here."

"Oh? More wedding stuff?"

"No. We had a lot of old junk that needed a decent burial." Jaime turned to fully face her husband, looking deeply and directly into his eyes. "Steve, he kissed me."

Steve raised one cock-eyed eyebrow. "You kiss him back?"

"_No._"

Placing a gentle arm around Jaime's waist, Steve pulled her close and smiled reassuringly. "Exorcising the old ghosts - you both needed that."

"He'll never try that again, either," she told him. "Under threat of becoming a permanent first soprano."

"Mrs. Austin, you are one of a kind."

"And don't you forget it," she said, finally smiling with him.

"Looked like a pretty good kiss," Steve said so subtly that she almost didn't catch it.

"Nah - it wasn't from you." Then it hit her. "Looked like?"

He grinned. "Have I told you today how very much I love you?"

"_Looked like?_"

Steve swept Jaime up into his arms and kissed her himself, with the kind of knowledge and passion that could only come after decades spent facing life - the good _and _the bad - hand in hand.

END


End file.
